


The Game of Trust

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Bondage, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-22
Updated: 2005-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time Veronica really did trust him, and she knew how to prove it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the bondage challenge at [](http://loveathons.livejournal.com/profile)[**loveathons**](http://loveathons.livejournal.com/) and beta'ed by [](http://kallysten.livejournal.com/profile)[**kallysten**](http://kallysten.livejournal.com/).

Logan’s jaw dropped. In perfect time with it, his backpack fell to the bedroom floor with a loud ‘thud’, his arm dangling lifelessly at his side.

For a moment, he was able to do nothing besides stand there and gawk. And then, slowly, his thought processes returned. And almost the first coherent thought that came to him was no way had he been a good enough boy this year that Santa had both come early and left him _this_ present.

“Logan?” the vision on his bed asked softly.

Logan gulped and tried to calm his pounding heart and throbbing erection. Because there, right in the middle of his bed, was a completely nude Veronica Mars, wrists tied to the headboard with one red silk scarf, while another covered her eyes in a blindfold. It was easily the most erotic thing he’d seen in his eighteen years on this planet, and it was _really_ hard to concentrate enough to form words with all his blood rushing south like this.

“Y-Yeah,” he finally managed, and his voice was actually _shaking_. It occurred to him belatedly that, what with the blindfold and all, she must not have been positive it had been him until he’d spoken. “It’s me,” he said a little bit more confidently and approached the bed.

She shivered slightly and, while he’d love to think it was because she could sense his nearness, it was probably due to the air-conditioning being cranked up all the way. His comforter was curled up sloppily beside her, and he figured she must have used that to keep warm while she was waiting for him, and then thrown it off and fully bound her hands when she heard him coming.

That, of course, was the almost surreally calm voice in the back of his head, which was pretty much the only part of him that right now wasn’t almost delirious with lust.

“To what do I owe the honor of this oh-so-delightful visit?” he asked lightly, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.

Her body shifted slightly, almost uncomfortably. “What does it look like, Einstein?” she snapped almost harshly.

“It _looks_ like you’ve been reading my secret wish-book. Maybe digging through my porno collection while you were at it,” he countered, hand coming up to caress her cheek.

She flinched for a second in surprise and then relaxed against his touch. “I just…” Her voice sounded almost helpless for a second, and it wasn’t a sound Veronica was ever supposed to make. “I want you to know that I really do trust you,” she whispered so quietly he almost couldn’t make it out over the cool breeze blowing in through the air-vent. “This time… I want you to _believe_ me…”

“I do.” His own voice sounded gravelly, desperate. It didn’t sound like his voice at all to his ears. It sounded like the voice of someone who’d crossed the Sahara and just reached their first oasis.

“Then, I want to prove it to you,” she concluded matter-of-factly, like it was the most straightforward idea in the whole wide world. But her body was still trembling, and he doubted it was just from the cold.

“Okay,” he agreed simply. And then he did the last thing anyone, least of all him, would expect him to do.

His hands came up, took hold of the comforter, and slid it back over her body.

She frowned, brow furrowed behind the blindfold. “What…?” she began.

“You were cold.” He shrugged even though she couldn’t see him and kicked off his shoes so that he could lie on the bed beside her.

She felt the need to make a token protest. “You don’t know that. Maybe I was just excited, huh?”

He let out a snort of laughter. “I know the difference between hypothermia and lust,” he assured her. “Give me a little credit. Besides,” he leaned in and brushed his lips across her collarbone, “this way I get to warm you up first…”

“Mmm…” She sighed contentedly as his lips moved up the side of her throat to her pulse point. Her heart was still calm and steady, but he fully intended to make sure it didn’t stay that way for long.

He sucked gently on her neck while his hand found its way around her body and caressed the back of her arm lightly. She started in surprise before stilling under his touch. And, suddenly, her heart wasn’t so calm at all; in fact, it was beating like a rabbit’s.

“You seem tense,” he commented casually, his fingers ghosting up and down her arm. He watched the goosebumps rise on her skin, listened to her breath hitch in her throat…

“Yeah, I’m blindfolded, naked, and tied to a bed,” she snapped out. “That’s a real mystery, there.”

He sighed. “You don’t have to…” he began, wondering where the hell this stranger had come from. The one who actually gave a fuck about something besides drinking, partying, and screwing. And, ironically, the one that he actually enjoyed being.

“I can’t even do one nice thing for you?” Veronica demanded, and it seemed her prickliness was directly proportional to her vulnerability. Luckily for him, he liked it when Veronica was prickly…

“You don’t have to be uncomfortable,” he clarified.

“Isn’t that the point?”

“That’s exactly the opposite of the point,” he corrected her, reaching for the blindfold. She let out a little protest when he pushed it back from her eyes, but he hushed her.

Her cheeks reddened as she blinked her eyes at the sudden light. It wasn’t an embarrassing position, until she had to see herself in it. “I thought you’d like…” she began nervously.

“I like very much,” he assured her, leaning in and brushing his lips across hers softly. “But it’s no fun if you don’t like, too.”

When he pulled back, she was scowling at him. “I hate you,” she informed him primly.

“You hate me because I make you enjoy sex?” he teased.

“Yes, dammit.” She was pouting. It was kind of adorable.

His hand trailed lazily down her side, brushing the side of her breast underneath the comforter. She let out a slow, satisfied breath of air as he continued to caress her absentmindedly. “You’re insatiable,” he concluded. “Literally. Nothing makes you happy.”

She glared at him, cheeks flushed, corners of her lips curled in unspoken enjoyment of their little game of words. _There_ was his Veronica. There was the girl he’d very soon joyfully, cheerfully fuck into the bed until his cock was finally satisfied. It was such a relief to see her come out to play that he almost came right then. Damn. There were times he wondered if there was something seriously wrong with him that all it took to get him off was a few defiant words…

“Boy. Girl. Bed. Blindfold,” she enunciated each word precisely, laying it all out for him carefully as if he were a complete and utter simpleton. “You really don’t have to make it that complicated.”

He blinked at her, scratched at his eyebrow with one hand while the other stilled at her waist, holding her body against his in a loose embrace. “Let me get this straight. You tie yourself to my bed, naked, as some sort of compensation for your perceived lack of trust, and _I’m_ the one complicating matters?”

“Yes.” It was so straightforward, so matter-of-fact.

Fuck, but he couldn’t help laughing. And the little mock-offended huff she let out as he giggled hopelessly into the bare flesh of her shoulder just made him laugh harder.

“This isn’t turning out according to plan,” she declared, the eye-roll evident in her tone of voice.

“Since when have I ever been ‘according to plan’?” he wondered, his lips turning seductive against her collarbone.

“Never,” she sighed. And the lilt in her voice as she said it made it sound like something else altogether, three unspoken, perfect words.

He looked up at her then, and whatever passion she saw in the depths of his eyes was enough to make her gasp. He caught the exhalation on her lips with his own, fingers tangling in her hair as he kissed her breathless. She yielded to him, opened for him, frustrated limbs awkwardly guiding his body until he was on top of her, lips parting and allowing his tongue to explore. He tasted her for the first and thousandth time, and she sighed against him before her tongue moved to stroke his, caressing him, urging him on…

The whole ‘make Veronica breathless’ plan failed miserably when he suddenly pulled away for lack of air. Or was it too much heat? All he knew was that he was panting, starving for the cool oxygen that filled his lungs with each gasp. Beneath him, Veronica’s chest heaved in counterpoint to his own. Bosoms heaving, literally. He couldn’t help but grin at that.

“Okay,” Veronica noticed his self-satisfied grin with a sour expression, “you need to take off your clothes. Now.”

“Who’s the one tied up here?” he countered.

She merely arched one eyebrow at him.

And that was when he realized that, even tied up, Veronica Mars had him completely wrapped around her little finger. He gulped and pushed himself off of her with effort. Her eyes watched him, heavy-lidded, as he slipped his t-shirt over his head. Lazy, hazy appraisal of his body as he unzipped his jeans and pulled them off with more clumsiness than he would have liked. He wasn’t sure whether he hated her or loved her for this, the way she could make him feel shy, make his hands tremble and fumble. At the moment, he was inclined toward the ‘love’ end of the spectrum, however.

“About time,” she grumbled when he kicked off his boxers and returned to the soft curves of her limbs. But she licked her lips as her gaze trailed up and down his nude body.

“I could always put the blindfold back on if you’re complaining.” He just couldn’t resist taunting her, his fingers toying with the thick ribbon of red silk beside her head. Compared to the whites and muted earth tones in his room, the red stood out in sharp contrast, a bright flash of passion amidst the pale.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she insisted.

“Need I ask one more time who exactly is tied up?”

“Need I point out that the last time you asked that, you did exactly what I told you to?”

“But, of course,” he agreed smoothly. “What’s the point of you trusting me, if I’m not trustworthy in the first place?” Even he couldn’t keep the smugness out of his voice at that.

She glared up at him, despite his hand sliding down through her rough curls in a placating gesture. “Then why the blindfold threat?” she demanded.

“Because, my sweet,” he explained patiently, thumb absentmindedly brushing her clit and receiving a hiss of pleasure in reward, “you’re really fucking hot when you’re pissed at me.”

“You’re going to pay for that just as soon as I get free,” she informed him, tugging lightly at her bonds. They didn’t give an inch. He hadn’t really bothered to examine the scarf before, but it seemed firm. From the slight widening of Veronica’s eyes, he guessed that she’d just fully realized that fact now, as well.

“Then I’d better make the most of the time I have,” he nearly whispered, his voice ragged at the sudden, oh-so-potent reminder that he had Veronica Mars completely and utterly at his disposal.

She gulped, in what looked like both nervousness and arousal, and his cock twitched excitedly as his lips slammed down over hers, kissing her hard this time, his mouth rough and punishing against hers.

Her tongue met his and countered his every move, as eloquent in passion as it was in words. His body covered hers skin-to-skin, and she arched beneath him before letting out a little whimper. And somewhere in the back of his mind he noticed that she’d tried to bring her hands down to touch him, to pull him down to her, but had been frustrated in her efforts.

He breathed out her name against her cheek, but somewhere between the beginning of their kiss and that whimper, the lust he’d felt upon first seeing her had overtaken him entirely, and ‘Veronica’ had turned into nothing more than three rhythmic pants.

She seemed to understand him, though, and reciprocate the sentiment. “I want you,” she breathed against the hot skin of his neck.

“Fuck…” he gasped.

“And, god, that’s just what you need to hear, right? Smart, Veronica. Feed the insatiable ego…” Her lips were still pressed to his throat, and he could feel the rhythm of her words pounding with his heart.

With a groan, he ground his erection against the inside of her spread thigh. Silk-smooth skin that lightly caressed, but couldn’t wrap around him the way he wanted it to. Thumb still pressing against her clit, he slipped one finger inside of her, felt her hot and very, very wet for him.

A long breath slipped between her clenched teeth, and she arched her body up against him. “God, you’re such a jackass,” she sighed, and the way she said it somehow made it a compliment, albeit a biting one. “I shouldn’t let you close like this, shouldn’t let you touch me like—” He inserted a second finger, and she tensed, her words halting.

He practically whimpered at her response. Because he’d learned Veronica well enough to know that that gasp and the tightness of her meant that she wasn’t ready yet. She was wet, yes, but she wasn’t stretched out yet. And, given how tiny she was, if he didn’t want her to hurt her, he was going to have to take his time getting her ready. Unfortunately, his dick was less than amenable to that plan. Especially if Veronica kept talking. Because, fuck, but she _never_ talked during sex. Not like this. Not like…

“How do you _do_ that?” she wondered, voice ragged against his cheek. “And if you make one smart remark about all your ‘experience’…” The threat trailed off.

Logan shut his mouth at that very comment that he’d been about to say. God, she was driving him insane. And she was still too tight, and even if she wasn’t, his condoms were in the drawer on the far side of the bed, and… “Veronica, I can’t…” he admitted, raw desperation in his voice.

Their eyes met, and he watched hers widen. She hadn’t even _known_ what she was doing to him, how much her challenging him turned him on. Damn. A hint of his need must have been clear on his face, because her gaze softened then. She tugged at her bonds, forgetting for the moment that her hands were tied, and she actually let out a little growl of frustration.

“Let me go,” she requested softly, a little frantically, like she wanted to take care of him more than anything else in the world. The thought just made his control slip a little bit more. “I can—”

“I can’t…” he practically pleaded.

She gulped and then nodded. “Okay,” she agreed softly.

It was all the permission he needed. Funny how seeing her helpless like this just made him hers even more…

He must have looked completely out of control to her, because his hips were jerking wildly now, seeking the scant friction he could get against her body, and his fingers lost any sense of rhythm inside her, and then he was coming hard against her thigh, his entire body arched with premature release.

It was bliss – albeit thoroughly frustrated bliss – for one moment. And then the embarrassment hit him.

“Fuck!” he swore at himself and rolled off of her, still breathing heavily as his body cooled and his dick softened. So much for Logan Echolls’ famed prowess in bed… “Fuck!” he said yet again, just for good measure.

“Yup. This evening is definitely not going as expected,” she sighed beside him, turning her head to face him.

He buried his face in the pillow and swore again.

“I’m sorry.” And this time her voice was soft, gentle, truly apologetic.

It was so incongruous that he looked up at her in surprise. “For what?” was all he could think to ask.

“For not…” She blushed slightly and glanced down to where his cock was soft against her. A sticky stream of his come trailed down her thigh, and she licked her lips as she considered it.

“Fuck…” But this time the swearing was due to the arousal stirring inside him once again. He really didn’t need visions of Veronica Mars sucking him off just then. In fact, it hadn’t even occurred to him that that had been a viable solution to his little problem. He’d always been very neat, very careful with condoms before. A part of him was probably still worried that Veronica’s view of sex was too much like fantasy to allow for wet spots and blowjobs.

 _Because she’s so innocent, she tied herself up to your fucking bed_ , a snide voice in the back of his head chided him. It had a point. Maybe it was time he tried experimenting with her. After all, he had a captive audience at the moment, quite literally…

But first of all, her own little shame had to be dealt with. It wouldn’t do to have her thinking that this had been a _bad_ thing. “Which one of us got off?” And he almost laughed because the lazy tone in his voice made the answer even more blindingly obvious than it had been before.

“Hmm,” her voice practically dripped sarcasm, “let me think about that one _really_ hard…”

“It’s okay,” he teased her. “Take all the time you need.”

She couldn’t hit him. However, her foot jabbed him neatly in the shin in compensation. “Such a jackass…” she sighed fondly.

He grinned and kissed the side of her throat gently. “The point being—” he continued.

“There’s a point?” she gasped in surprise.

He glared at her. “…That if anyone owes an apology, it’s me.” He gave her a lazy, seductive smile. “Which I fully intend to give, most sincerely,” he nibbled at her ear, “and with extreme attention to detail,” he twisted the lobe between his teeth, and she gasped, “just as soon as I clean us up.”

She let out a frustrated little whimper when he pulled away from her at that, and she watched him rise off of the bed and head for the bathroom. “Can you untie me, then?” she requested, tugging at the red silk again to remind him she was still bound. As if he could ever forget…

He pretended to consider it for a moment, then shook his head. “Nope,” he answered her cheerfully.

She blinked at him in surprise. “No?”

“No,” he agreed. “My girlfriend wants to learn the joys of bondage. Far be it for me to deny her.”

Veronica looked well and truly puzzled by that statement. “But we just…”

“That was _nothing_ ,” he assured her with a wink before retreating into the bathroom. He couldn’t help but smile smugly to his reflection in the mirror when he heard her little whimper of anticipation.

In a way, he considered as he turned on the water and ran his hands through it, it was a good thing he’d taken that first edge off. There was far too much he wanted to show her, and as aroused as he’d been, he probably wouldn’t have had the focus to do any of it properly.

He splashed water on his face and took a deep, calming breath. The sharp edge of need might have faded, but even the thought of naked Veronica threatened to shatter his control once again. And to think that _she_ was worried about how much she wanted him, how close she let him… He could easily get lost in Veronica Mars, forget himself inside her. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

He cleaned himself with a damp cloth before returning to his bedroom. The look Veronica gave him was all fire, passion and annoyance all at once. God, he loved her like that…

He nearly tripped over his backpack on his way to the bed. Overeager teenage boys weren’t the height of grace, after all.

She snorted. “Smooth.”

It was an invitation to another of their verbal sparring matches, but he didn’t take it, instead running the warm, wet cloth along her thigh, cleaning his pleasure off of her.

An appreciative shudder ran through her body, and this time he knew without a doubt that it had nothing to do with the cold. He leaned in to blow against her skin when he was done, drying her with his breath. A cry escaped her throat at the sensation, and her entire body arched off the bed in response.

“Very smooth,” he judged his own performance with a wink, tossing aside the cloth; they were definitely going to need it later.

“Do you always have to have the last word?” she wondered, as he positioned himself over her once more.

“What would be the fun of giving in to you?” He gave her a quick peck on the lips.

She smiled up at him. “I could be…appreciative,” she hinted.

He shook his head. “You’re just trying to trick me into untying you. It won’t work on me, Veronica Mars.”

“Damn your handsome cunning!” she retorted with a roll of her eyes that let him know all too well how little she meant the words. Or maybe how much…

“That’s why you love me,” he concluded more confidently than he felt. But she didn’t deny it, and he leaned in to kiss her, longer this time, deeper…

He stretched his arms out next to hers, bringing their bodies so close that they were pressed together, and her entire body seemed to melt beneath him, relaxing into his touch and welcoming him. Her breasts brushed the muscles of his chest with each gasping breath they took, and he could feel her rubbing her tight nipples against him, seeking friction.

“A _good_ boyfriend would touch me, you know,” she murmured against his lips.

“Are you calling me bad?”

“I’m calling you lazy. I’m the one all tied up, and you’re still making me do all the work,” she shot back.

“Ah…” He kissed her again, short and sweet. “You want me to touch you, then?”

“Yes, please,” she agreed, her voice overly perky and girlish. She _knew_ it annoyed him to no end when she did that.

Ah well, payback was a bitch. “Your wish is my command,” he agreed magnanimously. And, with one last kiss, he rose above her to press his lips to her fingers at the head of the bed.

“You’re untying me?” she asked, sounding almost disappointed.

“You wish.”

“Then what are—?”

“Touching you. Just like you asked,” he cut her off. “Oh, and while you’re down there, if anything happens to catch your eye, feel free to indulge.”

It took her a moment to figure that one out because, technically, his ribs were what was _directly_ over her face, but when she finally got it, the enraged gasp and bright flush of her cheeks were well worth it. “ _You_ wish,” she shot back at him.

“Nightly,” he agreed in a wistful tone, lips returning to her knuckles and brushing against them reverently, gentlemanly, just for contrast’s sake.

“It looks like tonight won’t be the night,” she commented dryly, one eyebrow raised as she appraised him.

He shrugged, unconcerned. “Not a problem.”

The look she gave him was skeptical, to say the least.

“Veronica,” he explained patiently, “I’m eighteen. I get an average of around a hundred erections a day. And that’s _without_ having my girlfriend naked in my bed.” She blushed again at that little admission, and he couldn’t help but grin. “See? Not a problem.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” she sighed.

He considered the obvious response. “Too easy.”

“You never do anything the easy way, do you?” she asked wistfully. It was obviously a slight at how he’d chosen to massage the pulse-points at her wrists, rather than take the straight route to Orgasmville.

“It’s better the hard way.” His lips brushed the inside of her elbow as he began to lower himself back down her body.

“So nice to know that your philosophy on life applies to sex as well,” she bit. Literally. He hissed at the sensation of her teeth, extremely gentle, against his nipple.

“Fuck, Veronica…”

“Mmm, hard _is_ better,” she concluded smugly, as her thigh wrapped around his waist, pulling him down to her.

And, yup, he was hard, indeed.

His fingers slid down the insides of her arms, caressing, lightly tickling soft skin and tender nerve endings. His lips paused at her forehead, and he breathed in the soft scent of her shampoo for a moment – something sharp and citrusy – before he kissed his way down the side of her face, hands following the rest of him downward, caressing every inch of her as he went.

“Mmm…” she sighed in pleasure and approval at his actions. He could feel her body heating up beneath him, a long, slow, sensual burn as he kept their chests pressed tightly together.

The hum turned to a whimper of complaint when he bypassed her mouth entirely, however, trailing ever lower. Small wet kisses down the column of her throat that made her head thrash back against the pillow. And, somehow, his hands had gotten ahead of the rest of him and cupped her breasts gently, not stimulating her but just holding her, as his mouth worked its magic against her pulse-point.

“Are you giving me a hickey?” she demanded when he lingered longer than he’d intended.

“Mm-hmm,” he laughed against her throat.

She squirmed slightly beneath him. “Neanderthal.”

“I love a woman who uses big words,” he informed her cheekily. “Especially when insulting me.”

“You’re insane,” she concluded, shaking her head but smiling as she did so.

“Does that make you even more insane for tying yourself up to my bed?” His mouth was at her shoulder now, kissing down her collarbone.

“Absolutely,” she agreed. “Why else would I be here right now?”

“Some people might argue that that’s a perfect sign of sanity.” He let her believe he was circling in on her breasts, before he bypassed them all together, moving lower…

“Does that list of people start and end with your name?” she demanded, sounding slightly snippy that he hadn’t given her what she wanted.

“All the best lists do,” he winked at her, dipping his tongue into her navel.

That seemed to placate her for the moment, and he thrust in and out of her, imitating a much more intimate act that he’d be performing on her soon enough.

Strangled little cries were escaping her throat now, in time to her thrusts, and, fuck, she was responsive today; he wasn’t even really touching her yet.

She murmured with eager anticipation as he moved lower, letting her thighs fall open wider to accommodate him. He traced the line of her hipbone, before moving lower…

And she screeched at him in annoyance when he bypassed her sex all together and started nibbling on her inner thigh instead. “Knock it off,” she hissed, kicking at him almost playfully.

He laughed against her, before placing a small, reverent kiss onto the place where he’d come not so long ago; he owed that thigh, big time.

“You’re not going to do a thing I say, are you?” she accused as he moved lower, fingers running seductively up and down her calves.

“I’m just being thorough,” he insisted. “For all I know, you might have a foot fetish.”

“ _You’re_ the one with the foot fetish,” she reminded him. “You already know I’m – oh god!” she squealed when he nibbled at her big toe. “Ticklish!” she finished, laughing and infuriated all at once.

He took mercy on her and stopped, watched her lazily as her body calmed and stilled. She looked so relaxed then, almost as much as she did after he’d made her come. It was definitely a condition he wanted to encourage.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” he offered, climbing back onto the bed fully so that his cheek was against her thigh once more.

“What kind of deal?” She looked so suspicious, so _Veronica_ just then…

“The best kind,” he assured her. “The kind where I finally touch you—”

“You already ‘touched me’,” she reminded him angrily.

“—Any way you ask me to,” he finished, offering her an ingratiating smile.

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”

“So suspicious,” he tisked lightly.

“I’m just your little P.I.,” she agreed sarcastically. “Now, ‘fess up.”

“Very well.” He raised his hands in defeat. “All you have to do is tell me _exactly_ how you want to touch me, in return.”

She gaped at him in disbelief. “You want me to talk dirty to you?”

“Dirty, clean, whatever your pleasure. For example, right now you could say,” he affected a girly voice, “‘Oh, Logan! I want to shove you out the window for being such an ass.’”

She blinked incredulously. “You _are_ insane,” she concluded.

He looked around shiftily and lowered his voice. “Then you should probably try to appease me so that I don’t go crazy on you,” he whispered.

She just laughed and smiled down at him like he was the most endearing thing she’d ever seen. It was that look that made him want to confess everything to her, offer her everything that he was forever…

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” she agreed. “And right about now,” she tugged at her wrists to emphasize her point, “I want to yank that smart mouth of yours down right between my legs.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he saluted before dipping down to brush his nose against her curls teasingly.

“And then I’d re-yank you for good measure, because that tongue doesn’t seem to be doing what it’s supposed to.”

He laughed and relented, fingers parting her folds so that his tongue could find her clit and swirl around it slowly.

Veronica sighed and fell back against the pillows as he finally set about to letting her enjoy this. “You know,” she commented lazily, “sometimes I think you’d rather just argue with me all night than have sex…”

He fought the shiver that ran down his spine at the truth of that statement and pressed his lips to her, drawing her clit out so that he could play better with it. After all, words were his favorite form of foreplay, and Veronica gave it to him with her words so very well…

“Sometimes I think I might like that, too,” she admitted, a soft whisper this time, as if she were embarrassed that he would actually hear her.

He groaned against her in response, and she gasped at the feel of his hot breath on her. His tongue flicked her clit again, but this time she hissed. Sensitive, too sensitive. Time to play with all the other lovely treats she’d laid out for him…

She whimpered and squirmed against his mouth, one leg coming up over his shoulder to trap him against her, as his tongue traced the tender line of her slit. “See? I don’t even need my hands…” she sighed as he continued to tease her opening, tasting her desire for him.

Smirking to himself, he pressed slowly inside of her. God, she was wet. And hot. And a lot more accepting of intrusion now. It seemed that _all_ of the tension in her had leaked out when his tongue flicked out against her g-spot. Her hips tried to rock up against him in response and, given his precarious position, he placed the flats of both palms against her thighs, holding her down as he continued to taste her.

Veronica squirmed and looked down at him. Wetting her lips, her voice came out rough at first: “Your back…”

“Mmm?” he hummed right against her cleft. The vibrations sent waves of shivers up her body.

“I want to touch your back,” she told him hazily, her body filling slowly with pleasure as his mouth continued to work her. “I love watching the way you move, the way your muscles ripple, I…” She let out a breathy gasp as his fingers came back down to flick against her clit sharply. “I want to touch you…”

He could feel her approaching the edge, heard her breath hitch, felt her thigh muscles tighten. His thumb flicked her clit quickly, roughly, before circling it slowly, tenderly one last time just as his tongue struck in deep once more.

She came around him with a cry, muscles flexing and relaxing around him spastically, body arching full off the bed so that he had to pull back, rest against her thigh as he watched her calm down.

And, god, she was so beautiful like this. Body flushed from head to toe, mouth open, wide, disbelieving, darkened eyes staring deep into his as if he were the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen. He could see her barriers break down in that moment, see all that she was, all that he knew was secretly lying under the surface. There were no secrets between them in that moment. Just the two of them…

He’d reached for his bedside drawer before she’d even fully come down, fumbled with the condom box there. Because, _god_ … It was impossible to watch her be this open, this _vulnerable_ , and not want to join her, to reciprocate everything she was feeling, return the gift she’d just given him in full.

He was almost glad her eyes were closed then, lashes fluttered shut delicately as she enjoyed the aftermath of bliss. Because it took more fumbling than it really should have for him to fit the condom on. His cock was tense, sensitive, overeager, the blood pounding through his hardened flesh, but at least he had enough control not to come in his hand. Thank god for all the practice he’d gotten in.

Veronica’s eyes opened slowly when his body covered hers, and she smiled happily up at him. “Hi…” she sighed, limbs stretching languidly beneath him.

“Hi,” he agreed with a tighter, tenser smile.

She seemed to realize the strain running through his body then, and her right leg slipped around him, her foot playing lazily with the back of his calf, inviting him inside.

He tested her wetness just the same, fit one, two, three fingers inside her with ease, and breathed a sigh of relief. “I love you,” he murmured against her lips as he guided himself inside her, and she hummed with pleasure.

Even as ready for him as she was, there was that one moment when her body resisted his girth before he finally plunged his way home. It always excited him more than it should; after all, what was Veronica without her evasion and resistance? It just made finally being allowed inside that much more pleasurable.

Her channel tightened around him almost immediately, molding to his contours, fitting him like a wet glove. He groaned at the feel of her heat surrounding him, the feel of _belonging_ he felt every time he was inside her.

“Oh…” The syllable of surprise escaped her lips, as if she realized it too, understood how they just _fit_.

“You feel so good,” he gasped out.

She nodded, opened her mouth to speak, gulped, and then tried again. “I-If my hands were free?” she offered hesitantly.

And she was still playing his game, even though she’d already gotten what she’d asked for. It was as though she finally realized why he’d asked, how much he loved hearing her tell him how much she wanted him, how the only way she could touch him now was with her words…

“I would make you kiss me,” she finished softly.

And then he was kissing her, as deeply and passionately as he could, his hands tangling in her hair, his hips thrusting in and out of her in a smooth, gentle rhythm.

Her legs came up, wrapping around his waist, clutching him to her tighter, pulling him in deeper. Her eyes were a dark blue-green like the sea, deep and welcoming, and he kissed her again and again, rhythm increasing steadily.

“You’re amazing,” she whispered against him in awe as his rhythm reached its crescendo, then slowed down again, slow and languid, drawing this time out the way he hadn’t been able to the first time.

And despite the horrible cuteness of it all, he couldn’t stop himself from arguing with her: “No, you are.”

She just laughed against his lips.

“You want me,” he whispered. And it wasn’t a boast or a taunt. It was an awed realization of something so rare, so precious… “Do you have any idea how incredible that makes you?”

Their eyes met, and his pace slowed to a gentle rocking, almost unnoticeable. A joining more than anything else. Slowly, she licked her lips and whispered, “I’d kiss you again now…”

And he complied because sometimes touch was a way to avoid saying words, but sometimes also the words weren’t enough and the only way to truly convey meaning was through the meeting of lips, tongues, flesh…

He pulled almost all the way out then, before thrusting as hard and deep as he could, making sure his cock ground against her clit on the in-stroke. She cried into his open mouth as he pounded the pleasure center inside her, and he groaned in response as he felt her start to fall apart around him.

It was the closest he’d ever been to Veronica Mars. It was the closest he’d ever let her get to _him_.

Five deep, firm thrusts, and she was screaming out in ecstasy again, clenching and spasming around him. He fought his release even as she pulled him down, wanting to make sure he’d taken care of her this time before he let himself go. He didn’t last long, of course; he never did. Perfection was always a momentary thing…

He fell down with her, clasping her body to him roughly, holding her to him tight. His forehead found the crook of her neck, and buried himself there, in her heat, her scent, as his balls tensed and then released and he came deep inside her. The two of the plummeted, collapsed, him clinging to her and her hands grasping at the headboard as she had nothing else to hold onto. And the last coherent thought he had was that he was deeply, truly sorry that he hadn’t untied her so that she could hold onto _him_ …

The darkness he finally awoke to was deep, warm, and welcoming. He curled into it, listening to its pounding rhythm: _Th-Thump. Th-Thump. Th-Thump._

It took him a few moments to recognize the sound as a heartbeat. But not to identify the heart as Veronica’s; that part seemed like the most obvious thing in the world.

“Logan?” she asked softly.

Reluctantly, he forced himself to stir above her. “Mm?”

“You’re heavy,” she reminded him.

And, with a groan, he realized that he’d fallen on top her, put his whole weight onto her body. Not the most comfortable thing for her, given their comparative sizes. He finally managed to roll off of her, coming to rest at her side, feeling the world slowly come back to him.

He removed the condom and tossed in the trash can by his bed, very grateful that he didn’t actually have to get up. He was even more grateful that he’d left the cloth by his bed earlier as he cleaned himself off quickly, before turning to Veronica and repeating his actions on her gently.

“So…” she began hesitantly, and there was always that question of how to act in this moment. After intimacy had been found and lost. “Do you think you could untie me now?”

He just blinked at her for a moment.

“I think I’ve lost all feeling in my arms,” she prodded him lightly.

With a groan of realization, he tossed the cloth aside and reached up to fumble with the scarf tied about his headboard. Damn, she’d really tied herself tight. He was actually fairly impressed. Finally, the silk loosened, and he pulled the knot free.

She lowered her arms shakily, stretching beside him.

“So, do you trust me now?” he asked curiously, propping himself up on one elbow. And he couldn’t help but feel smug because he had, without a shadow of a doubt, proved just how trustworthy he really was.

She smiled slightly to herself, as if chiding herself for ever thinking that merely tying herself up would fool him. “Yes,” she admitted.

“Do you trust yourself around me?”

And that was the real question, the one this game set out to answer. It was certainly the one that been answered for _him_. There was a sort of warmth, a sense of accomplishment and comfort, pride in himself that, even when she’d been completely helpless – _especially_ when she’d been completely helpless – all he’d ever even considered bringing her was pleasure. Dark genetic prophecies meant nothing when faced with the reality of who he really was. It was a relief in so many ways, freedom from doubt…

“Maybe…” she offered carefully, more honestly than he’d expected. And she reached out for him, pulled their bodies together, pressed her forehead to his gently, holding him close.

“We’ll have to work on that, then,” he concluded.

“Yeah…” she agreed with an exhalation.

He let out a faux-reluctant sigh. “Which means that I’m just going to have to let you tie me up one of these days.”

She laughed. “The sacrifices you make,” she teased.

He shrugged, as he settled down beside her to sleep. “A little bondage is good for the soul.”

Hands on him at long last, fingers of one hand stroking through his hair while the other caressed his hip, she held him to her and breathed her agreement. “Yeah…”


End file.
